In high school I was such a conspiracy theorist. 9/11 happened when I was in grade 8, so for several of the following years it was “George Bush” this and “Skull and Bones” that. The Government, maaaaaan! There’s still remnants of it in my personality. For example, I totally think the COVID virus was created and released. By whom, and to what end? Well.. I don’t really think enough about these things to form a complete opinion. Anyways.. One of the symptoms of this charming personality trait is that I hate “Hallmark Holidays.” Just days created by ‘the man’ to push sales, costing people money on things no one needs. What a rip! I would still call my mom, send her flowers sometimes. But whatever. Not a real holiday. Pointless, I say!
So now – I have kids. More specifically, I have two 4 month old premature babies that I care for while my fiance goes to work full time, in the middle of a pandemic that eliminates the possibility of accepting any of the help I was offered beforehand. Shit is hard! Holy crap! I had no idea how hard being a mom is. I thought I knew, and I thought I’d heard enough to be adequately prepared. No. And any mom who is reading this right now is chuckling to themselves, because you likely felt the same way. Even if you weren’t cocky about it like I was – You definitely learned a lot about patience and hard work in even the first week of parenthood. You’ve definitely had your share of breakdowns and “what the fuck have I done” moments. I remember sitting in the NICU with my mom and we were talking about how it’s something that you just can’t be prepared for. No one can tell you what it’s going to be like in a way that you will understand. I have worked hard labour jobs, waitressing jobs, three jobs at once, jobs where a normal day for me was 16 hours… Those was nothing in comparison. I love my kids. I absolutely adore my kids and would do anything for them. But unfortunately I’m not at the point where I’ve gotten to really enjoy being a mom. I spend a lot of time reminiscing about my old life when I could just up and go to Mexico for a month or two, or when Dave and I would go to the city for the night to see a band and get white girl wasted. Things you can’t do as new parents. And granted, I’ve been spending less time in regret mode as the kids get older but damn. I miss being young and exciting. If I only knew, bla bla bla… I’ll spare you that diatribe.
When Dave asked me what I wanted for Mother’s Day, I honestly didn’t even know how to respond. It had never even occurred to me but all at once I realized how much moms deserve that shit. The flowers. The Chocolates. The macaroni pictures that live on the fridge and slowly lose pieces over time… All of it! Ladies – You deserve that shit entirely. Eat the whole box of chocolates. Be proud of those macaroni pictures. Smell the flowers. Let your kids make you breakfast in bed. (Warn dads to be ready to clean that shit up too cuz having to clean up the mess involved in kiddos cooking and serving negates the pleasure of a breakfast in bed.)
After I realized how much I’d earned a day, my sad self started thinking about how much I maybe didn’t deserve it. I still don’t feel like a mom. It feels weird to say that because I spend my life pumping and bottling and changing diapers and rocking and everything else involved with raising tiny babies. I am all that is mom. Except I don’t get to really enjoy it right now. Spending time with the kids is great, it’s just a lot of responsibility. Usually I get off on responsibility but not as a mom. I don’t know if it’s that there’s so much more at stake than someone’s breakfast order, or maybe it’s just the way it goes for new moms (new multiple moms, maybe?) Or maybe it’s just the onslaught of postpartum mental health issues I’ve experienced since the kids came out. It becomes a bit of a vicious cycle – I am depressed and exhausted so I don’t enjoy parenting. I don’t enjoy parenting so I feel guilty. My guilt makes me feel even more depressed and exhausted. I feel like I’ll probably start enjoying it when they sleep through the night and can sit up on their own. I recognize that a lot of my postpartum issues are due to near complete exhaustion, so maybe once I get a normal amount of sleep I will feel better and more in control. God, I fucking hope so. But I’m getting off topic.
I still don’t know what I want for Mother’s Day. I told Dave I want a clean house and a foot massage, that is really all I want. I sound like my mom and any other mom I’ve heard answer that question. I will likely only get the foot massage, and let’s be honest – I’ll still be really stoked about it. He’s gonna make us an epic dinner too. ‘Us’ being Dave and I, as well as Dave’s mom and her husband. We go visit every weekend to keep ourselves sane. Ma-in-law keeps the babies for the night so Dave and I can relax, get some real sleep, and then go for a little day-date the next day. We go home refreshed and (in my case) terrified to start a new week taking care of the babies alone. But for Mother’s Day, ma-in-law and I are gonna enjoy the relaxation. Me more than her apparently cuz she loves hanging with those babies!
All this to say – I have to recognize my struggle, and the fact that I have earned a day. I can still be humble about what I do for my family without being self-deprecating. I can let others appreciate me. Dave and I both have our jobs, and yeah mine is a little harder. Ok, maybe a lot harder.. But it’s ok. And I can do this – I do it every day! So yeah Dave, I’ll take the foot massage. And if you can swing a clean house? Fuck yeah. I’ll take that too. I’ve earned it. Thanks babe 🙂 Also, ma I’m gonna send you a big sexy bouquet of flowers. Maybe a little minion to massage your feet if I can find one.
Happy Mother’s Day, betches.